The Wind, Rain and a Little Run

I park the car near the ocean and look at how hard the rain is hitting the windshield.  I'm going to get wet.  Looking forward to this run all week, I pushed aside the disappointment of having to run in the wind and rain.  Again.

The fuel belt is ready to go and I strap it on, hit the start button on my Garmin and I'm off and running.  The plan is to do the first 8 at marathon pace; the last 8 at the pace my friend Joy's nagging injury will allow.

Running solo through the city is new to me and I am slightly apprehensive.  Making a point to be aware of my surroundings I relax a little and enjoy the sights and sounds.  A breeze rattles the wind chimes of the boats sleeping in the marina.  The water is a murky grey-green almost blending seamlessly into the horizon of the rain filled grey sky.  The rain is doing it's best to conceal the mountainous islands.  

As I leave the harbor, I run the road taking me up and into downtown.  The intersection I am approaching I see a man walking towards me.  His hand holds a large black garbage bag, surely containing all his earthly possessions.  The men's shelter is a block and half away and I am certain he has just come from there.  He walks to the corner and presses the pedestrian button.  He waits patiently for the "Walk" sign to light up.  I smile at his civilian thoughtfulness.  Most would have gone through the intersection as the deserted roads brought little concern for crosswalk safety.  I look him straight in the eyes and give him a cheery, "Good morning!"  I wonder when the last time a stranger looked him in the eye.

Southeast winds continue to pick up speed, seemingly to hit me at all directions.  Running into the wind at marathon pace tires me and I hope the trees lining the upcoming trail will provide some relief.

The corner coffee shop is quiet.  The roads are empty sans the occasional driver.  Rounding the corner onto the South Bay Trail I see my first runner.  They must be in training I muse, no one would be out here in the winds and rain if the training didn't dictate it.

Once on the trail I hear the faraway rumblings of an approaching freight train.  The horn sounds shattering through early morning quiet.  Engine 9130 barrels down the track on it's way to deliver the coal-filled cars to wherever they need to go.  The trail is above the train and looking down on the train, I notice the blackness of the coal looks striking against the ocean's edge.

The waterfront park is empty except for the rain-slicker wearing city worker emptying the trash bins.  An occasional coffee drinker is seen going into the coffee shop to get their first morning's cup of coffee.  The rain has drenched every square inch of my clothing and I fight the urge to veer off the path into the warm building to get a hot cup of anything.

As I run a mere 3 feet from the ocean's edge, I pause my thought and look up.  I imagine what 33 feet above my head looks like.  My heart again breaks for the people of Japan.  Yesterday the ocean I am running along had a tsunami advisary, we saw a mere 1/2 foot swell in tide.  The power the tsunami held scares me as I realize we saw the affects here thousands of miles away.  Nature has a fury.

My watch beeps my mileage and I must turn around and make my way back.  The wind and rain are a relentless duo.  I leap over lakes puddles,  and do my best to stay out of the way of the urban rivers flowing madly toward storm drains.  Closing in on where I am to meet Joy I check my watch and realize I've made good time and I'm early.  I run loops through the park,cursing the strength of the wind as it tries to push me back.

Joy pulls in, jumps out of the coveted dryness of her car and we are off running together.  The miles fly by quickly as we make our way back down the trail.  The conversation flows easily.  Despite her injury, we are keeping a good pace.  Mile 14 and I am starting to tire.  Joy reminds me the next 2 miles are relatively downhill or flat and then we will be finished.  She is right.  We press on.

The rain has let up some as we near the 16 mile mark.  We walk the remaining distance back to our cars.  The miles completed, the run over and the weather had done it's best to drag us down, but we prevailed.  We dug deep and got it done.

Hot coffee never tasted so good.